Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch

Chapter 2

Of

Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch

"Up! Get up! Now!" shrieked Petunia Dursley, as she pounded on Harry’s door. "There’s work to do and if you think you can laze about all summer, sleeping through half the day, you’ve got another think coming!"

Harry groaned, and rolled over. Aunt Petunia was at it again. It seemed they had gotten over Harry’s having a convicted murderer for a godfather and were still rather miffed about Dudley and the Ton-Tongue-Toffee incident. They always took things like that out on him. Harry groaned again, stretched, and sat up just as a snowy owl came swooping through the open window. "Hedwig! Have you got a letter for me then? Come here and let’s see!"

The owl settled on the rumpled bedcovers and regally stuck out her leg so Harry could remove the letter. There were three letters, actually. One each from Harry’s friends Ron and Hermione, and another from his godfather, Sirius Black. They read:

You won’t believe what great news I’ve got Harry! My mum owled Professor Dumbledore to petition him to let you stay at our house for the rest of the summer! She said, and I quote, (I swiped the letter and read it when Fred and George came over and started making a racket and she went out to yell at them) "Dumbledore, you must let Harry come and stay with us for the rest of the summer. He’s had to put up with those horrid muggles for almost two months now. The seem rather prone to hold grudges against all things magical and last summer when Arthur, Ron, Fred, and George went to fetch Harry for the World Cup. Fred and George had and escapade that involved the Dursley’s son Dudley and one of the twins’ awful creations called a Ton-Tongue-Toffee…Needless to say, it was not a pretty sight and I think that they will blame Harry…"

It went on from there about a house full of wizards and some rubbish about the Blue Flame Candle or something like that. You’ll find a small leather bag is with Hedwig as well. Inside is a button. Dad has some connections in the Magical Navigation Network and got the button turned into a Portkey for 3:12 pm on July 31^st. That’ll be a great birthday present I’ll bet. Getting away from the Dursley’s.

Anyway, Dad’s sent the muggles a letter through the muggle post and put a Congeniality Charm on it. Don’t tell him you know. It’s magic that makes people easier to deal with, but it is illegal to put on muggles and Dad doesn’t know I know. Be sure to remember the Portkey time and everything will be great! See you in a week!

 

Ron

 

 

 

Dear Harry,

Ron told me all about your Portkey to the Burrow, and I think it’s wonderful that you get to stay with the Weasley’s. By the way, did Rom tell you I’m coming too? He probably didn’t, the prat. Oh, well. He may not even know. Ginny invited me and, knowing him, Ron’s done something to make her stop speaking with him.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny are coning by Floo Powder to come and get me on the 30^th. Knowing my mum and Ron’s, though, they’ll probably keep on talking until the next morning. I can’t wait for us all to be able to see each other again!

 

Love from,

 

Hermione

 

Harry,

Dumbledore owled me yesterday and told me you were going to stay with Ron and his family for the rest of the summer. I’m really glad that you are staying in a house full of wizards. The Green Flame Torch has been stolen and that can’t be good news. I know that you don’t get the Daily Prophet at the Dursley’s so I’ll tell you all that’s happened.

Sixteen years ago, Dumbledore came across some ancient parchments concealed inside Hogwarts regarding a very powerful magical object. The Green Flame Torch. In these parchments was information about the Torch’s power and whereabouts. The Torch was created by the Founding Four of Hogwarts. Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff. It was originally created to be an object that could heal virtually any wound. For a while, that was exactly what it was used for. Finally, though, when Salazar and Godric had an argument that was worse than all the others, Salazar sought revenge in warping the creation Godric held so dear.

After Salazar was done with it the Torch was changed almost beyond recognition. No longer was the flame of the Torch a light ethereal green. It had taken on an unearthly and sinister neon tint; like that of glow-sticks muggle children play with on Halloween. (A/N: It didn’t say those things in the parchments about the Green Flame Torch. Sirius is giving these descriptions because he knows. The parchments only gave a description of the Torch in its original state.) The Torch’s wood had turned from the light color of fresh-cut pine to a black that was the essence of darkness.

That wasn’t the worst change made to the Torch though. As a final slap in Godric’s and the other Founders’ faces, Salazar reversed the Torch’s entire make-up. Now, instead of healing all it touched, the Torch would un-create all it touched, pulling apart everything it came in contact with. Down to the smallest sub-atomic particle, making things as if they had never been, but leaving us with our memories of the victims, so we would know our loss.

Sixteen years ago, when knowledge of the Torch’s existence and location came to Dumbledore, he gathered a group of us that were willing (this group included myself, your parents, Remus Lupin and a few others. Oh, yes, Arthur Weasley was involved in the Torch’s recovery as well.) and we retrieved the Torch from the Muggle museum it had been in. They had thought that it was an early civilization torch because over a thousand years of disuse had put the Torch into some kind of self-induced stasis. We believe that it will take someone of wizarding blood to touch it to "wake" it up. We took it to an Unplotable place in Siberia. It is a dangerous thing and at that point we couldn’t risk it falling into Voldemort’s hands. Still can’t for that matter.

Everything points to Voldemort having it now and the implications of that are enormous. Now you see why I’ll feel better with you in a house full of wizards especially when one of those wizards knows all of the details.

I want you to promise me, Harry, that you will do nothing that will deliberately endanger your life this year; like going off into the Forbidden Forest, or messing around with the Whomping Willow or anything similar. Voldemort may try to use the Torch against you and if you notice even the smallest thing that seems strange, go strait to Dumbledore. Odd dreams, unexpected pains in you scar… whatever. I’m only asking you to do this because I care.

Sirius

 

Harry gave a snort of laughter at the last bit of Sirius’ letter. He had sounded exactly like Mrs. Weasley then. After a second he sighed again. Ron and Hermione’s letters were much too cheerful to be normal. Things between them all were still rather stilted because of everything that had happened last year during the Third Task. They were trying to take his mind off of his latest horrible experience, and it was very endearing but Harry just wished they would stop. It only reminded him of it even more. "Oh well. At least Sirius is as normal as he ever is. That’s comforting, and I’ll be there in a week and after we talk, things will get better."

*

 

 

Things went exactly as planned for Hermione. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny showed up at Hermione’s door on the 30^th and, as expected, Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Weasley hit it right off and carried on a conversation for upwards of three hours. Eventually, Ginny and Hermione convinced their mothers that it was time to leave, and Mrs. Granger went through the usual tears about letting her ‘baby’ go. Ginny tossed a pinch of Floo Powder into the Granger’s fireplace, shouted "The Burrow!" and they were on their way.

Hermione had never traveled by Floo Powder and it was just as much of a shock to her as it had been to Harry. As soon as all three of them and Hermione’s luggage had come through, Ginny pulled Hermione upstairs to the room they would be sharing.

"Up here! It’s kind of a mess, but it serves its purpose."

"I think it’s lovely. Blue is my favorite color. Especially the light periwinkle you have the walls painted."

The two young witches chattered on animatedly, all the while unpacking Hermione’s things and folding them into the drawers Ginny had emptied for her. Just as they finished, Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs for them.

"Girls, would you go and tell those rascals outside to come in and wash for dinner? Be quick so everything doesn’t get cold!"

"All right Mum! We’ll be right down", Ginny called. "I just have to shove all this mess under my bed. If my mum saw this mess, she’d set me in a room full of boggarts and leave me there," she added as an aside to Hermione, looking at the junk strewn all over the floor.

When Ginny finished hiding the Teen Witch magazines, chocolate frog wrappers, and other miscellaneous, they raced down the rickety old staircase with Ginny in the lead. At the bottom she grabbed the gargoyle on the end of the banister and started whipping around the corner and towards the back door. Suddenly and inexplicably, Ginny’s feet shot out from under her. If not for the hand she had on the banister ornament (which was shouting loudly about nasty humans and poor defenseless gargoyles getting their heads pulled off), Ginny probably would have broken a bone.

"Ginny! Oh my goodness, are you all right?" cried Hermione as she rushed forward to help Hinny up. "Ouch! Yes, I’m fine, although Fred and George won’t be after I’m done with them! How many times have they been told not to leave those blasted Friction-less Marbles on the floor? Hmmm……Yes!! That’s it! Hermione, listen. You go out and bring the Dastardly Duo in. Ron’s out there too, so make an excuse to keep him back. I’ve no grudge against him at the moment. When Fred and George walk in that door, there will be marbles waiting for them. Let’s see how they like having their bottoms bruised!"

"Ginny, I don’t know about this. It’s not nice to –"

"Nonsense! If you were forced to put up with six brothers, you’d enjoy revenge too. Now, off you trot!"

Hermione had to laugh at that. "Ginny, you are wonderfully diabolical!"

*

 

 

Out side it was a typical summer’s day in Ottery St. Catchpole. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the youngest three Weasley boys were playing Quidditch.

"Ha! Take that, you pitiful excuse for a Beater!"

"Oof! What’d I ever do to deserve that, Fred?"

"Plenty!"

"Why you…hey! Ron! Ooooohh! How could you drop the quaffle in the pond again!?! Now we’ll never get it back!"

When Hermione reached them, she just stood there watching. Watching Ron especially. He is so handsome, she thought, especially with the setting sun shining on his hair that way, and the wind whipping his robes this way and that…Whoa! Where did that train of thought come from? Best not go there again!

 

Finally Fred noticed her just standing there and motioned the other two to come down. When he landed Fred rushed over and pulled Hermione into an exuberant, yet brotherly hug. "Hermione! There you are! We were afraid you would never get here!" George and Ron followed at a more sedate pace. When they reached Fred and Hermione, Fred extended his greetings also; Ron merely glowered fiercely at Fred with a look that clearly said, "If looks could kill you’d be six feet under." Fred winked and sent a knowing smile at his younger brother.

She relayed her message and Fred told Ron to go and fetch the quaffle so Hermione didn’t need to fabricate a reason to keep Ron back. George didn’t want to leave without Hermione and Ron but his twin elbowed him in the ribs and said, "Come on" very emphatically. With an expression of sudden understanding on his face, he followed Fred back to the house.

Ron had stopped glowering, but he still had a brooding expression on his face that was not, by any means helping overcome the uncomfortable silence that had fallen. Trying to lift some of the oppressiveness, Hermione said brightly, "So, Ron, how’s your summer been?"

"Fine. Great."

"Oh Ron, what’s the matter now? Quit being monosyllabic with me."

He said nothing to that; only kept looking at her with a frown on his face. Just as she was going to try again to bring him back from whatever faraway mental place he was in, he spoke. Very sarcastically.

"How was Bulgaria? Did you and your boyfriend have a good time?"

Hermione spluttered in indignation. How dare he talk to her like that?

"You don’t think I would actually go… My parents would never allow me to…I would never…He is NOT my boyfriend. It was only infatuation!"

This last statement seemed to snap Ron out of his reverie and he interrupted her. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

"Uncalled for?! Uncalled for?! Yes, it was uncalled for! Where do you get off that as the first thing you’ve said to me in two months?!?!?!?"

"I said I was sorry! I just hated the thought of you living with that git!"

"He is not a git!"

You say he’s not a git and yet hr’s the one who put the Cruciatus Curse on Diggory."

"It wasn’t his fault! Many witches and wizards can’t throw off Imperio!"

"Harry can throw it off completely and –"

"Quit comparing him to Harry. He isn’t Harry and he never will be."

"—And both you and I can resist it for about ten minutes!"

At this point Ginny came up, wondering where they had got to, and saw fit to intervene. She had to scream at the top of her lungs to be heard. "Both of you stop it! Hermione! I to ld you to hold him back, not start a blazing row with him within three minutes of seeing him! And you! Where do you get off yelling at anyone, much less your best friend, like that?" They ignored her completely.

"And he is NOT my boyfriend!"

"You bet he is! I wager you two were snogging at whatever chance you got this summer!"

When Ginny heard that particular comment, she ran inside to get reinforcements. Fred and George came out to help. It was a good thing too. Hermione looked like she was about ready to kill Ron with her bare hands; no wand necessary.

With much effort and cajoling, Ginny, Fred and George got Ron and Hermione inside without any loss of life. Dinner was a rather stilted affair, as all conversation between Hermione and Ron was very civil, yet painfully polite. Everyone sighed with relief when it was over and they could go to their rooms for the night. Little did they know it, but Ron and Hermione were both thinking remarkable similar things that night. ‘Please let Harry get here soon. I hate being angry with my best friend and Harry always seems to be able to smooth things out between us.

*

 

 

The next afternoon, Harry arrived by Portkey. Up until the moment he got there, Mrs. Weasley had been fluttering around the house trying to look productive, but only managing to exude nervousness and worry. The second he stepped through the door, she had him sitting at the table with a plate piled high with food in front of him. For the most part, the way Mrs. Weasley showed affection was to shower the recipient of said affections with edibles.

As soon as Harry managed to get out from under the watchful eye of Mrs. Weasley, he Ron and Hermione went upstairs to Ron’s room where there was at least a semblance of privacy. The instant the door shut, all three of them immediately started talking a mile a minute.

"Remember when I showed you what I did with Rita…"

"You won’t believe how easy it was to leave the Dursley’s…"

"Kid you know the Cannons won the regional finals and…"

Just as quickly they all stopped, looked at each other, and grinned. There was still an underlying current of wariness between Harry and the others, as if they were still unable to decide what to make of his duel with the Dark Lord, and another between Ron and Hermione, this one composed mainly of hurt and indignation at the other’s behavior. Those currents could be felt, but they were beneath the surface and now that the three were together again, they started sinking even lower. Soon they would be all but forgotten in the interests of peace and the fact that they would have other things to think about.

*

 

 

The summer continued with Harry and Ron outside almost all day, every day playing Quidditch while Hermione did homework and memorized the next year’s course books (with Ron making voluble protestations that the summer was for fun not for homework.). In the evening Ron and Hermione would play chess, with Hermione saying each night, "This is the night I’m going to beat you." Neither of the boys ever believed her though, because she never did.

They continued on in this fashion for a long time and the days flew by. Eventually the summer drew to a close and it was time to start thinking about school again.

Ron’s mother offered to get the three’s school things again, just as she had last year, during the Quidditch World Cup. At last, though, the summer holidays ended completely. It was the day the Hogwarts Express arrived to take students north, to the school.

Because of the difficulties Harry and Ron had had in the past while trying to board the train, Mrs. Weasley insisted that they both go through the barrier with her. The lean-against-the-barrier-and-"accidentally"-fall-through method seemed to work the best so they all three used that one. As they stepped over and onto platform 9 ¾ Harry, Hermione, and Ron all sighed, thinking it was good to be back.

The platform was chaos, as usual. Students yelling, mothers crying, owls hooting. It was one of the most beautiful things Harry had ever heard. This was what he had been waiting for for almost three months. He was back in his element.

This year’s trip on the school train was the best yet. The threesome wound an empty compartment right away, all their luggage fit inside it without anyone having to sit on a trunk and best of all, Draco Malfoy kept his ugly face hidden for the entire trip (A/N: sorry to all of you Draco-lovers out there, but I don’t like him and I’m trying to stay true to his character in JKR’s books). This is how it should be, though Ron. My two best friends in the world right here, no worries, no cares, and a huge pile of sweets to munch on. I could stay just like this forever.

Contrary to Ron’s wishes, the train didn’t stop and neither did time. Soon they had arrived at Hogwarts. All the baggage was unloaded and left on the platform for the house-elves to collect and deliver later, and most students were racing around trying to find an unoccupied carriage. Out of sheer luck Hermione discovered one of the last. They all three piled in, and the coach got on its way. The ride to the castle didn’t last long. Before you could say ‘pixie’ they had arrived.

As they crossed the threshold Hermione announced to the world at large, "We are now officially fifth year students at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Isn’t it exciting?" Ron looked at her oddly and replied, "Yeah, real exciting. Another year of torture compliments of Snape and the Slytherins. Sounds like great fun."

"Oh, you never appreciate anything academic!" Hermione retorted.

"Stop it now," said Harry sharply, jumping in. "You two will drive me crazy before the week is out if you keep on at this rate!" Hermione had the grace to look embarrassed, but Ron just looked determinedly belligerent. "What is it with you two anyway? You’ve been fighting like cats and dogs since we got off the train. First it was who would carry Hermione’s trunk out (granted, it was very gentlemanly of you to offer Ron), and then it was which carriage we would take, and now this! Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you two were crazy about each…" Harry saw the uncomfortable looks on his friends’ faces, trailed off into silence, and then grinned, an idea slowly forming in his head. "Let’s go to the feast.", said Hermione, rather nervously, and walked off. For the sake of peace both boys followed her and even Ron didn’t say anything untoward.

*

 

 

The Great Hall was decorated, as usual, in all the four Houses colors for the Beginning of the Year Feast. And, also as usual, Ron was starving.

"Why can’t they skip the poem and just get on with the Sorting? I am absolutely famished!"

"Ron, you are always hungry. I think it’s in your nature."

"I don’t care why I’m hungry ‘Mione, I just want something to eat! Even thinking about the Feast is making my mouth water!"

"Well you can wait for a bit I’m sure, and since when do you call me "’Mione"?"

"Uhhh…since now? Oh, look! Dumbledore is about to give his speech now!"

And he was. Dumbledore, looking only slightly older that the last time they had seen him, was just then standing up to give his before the feast ‘speech’. However, he didn’t give the usual "Blubber, nitwit, oddment, tweak!" He merely winked and said, "I have a very important announcement to make after we have eaten. Please enjoy.", smiled, and then sat down.

Well, that was odd, thought Hermione

Wonder what all that was about, thought Harry

Guess we’ll find out later, thought Ron.

*

 

 

After the feast (during which everyone stuffed themselves to the gills), and much speculation as to what Dumbledore’s ‘important announcement’ was, Dumbledore finally stood and held up one hand, motioning for silence. The noise level in the Hall immediately dropped. "What do you think he’ll say?" Fred stage-whispered into the semi-quiet, clearly audible to the entire Hall. There was a pause and everyone burst out laughing. Dumbledore, who seemed to have been laughing the hardest, wiped his eyes and said, "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I think you have accurately voiced the thoughts of everyone in this room. Plus," he added, just slightly impishly, ", you have given all of us a laugh which I, for one, desperately needed." All through thru these words Fred had been turning redder and redder. True, he likes being the center of attention, but not when it was this embarrassing.

Hermione hadn’t been thinking about Fred however. She had been wondering why Dumbledore had needed cheering up so badly. These thoughts were interrupted when Dumbledore continued with his speech.

"Young ladies and gentlemen, as most of you know, Hogwarts is not the only wizarding school in the world. Just last year, many of you got the chance to meet with students from Beaubatons Academy and the Durmstrang School when we reinstated a rather -unconventional- student exchange program with the Triwizard Tournament. That is not, however, the only exchange program that has been established at Hogwarts.

"This year, we will be the hosts of three American wizards and/or witches from the Chicago Institute for the Magical Arts. We will also be sending three of our students over-seas.

"When the Durmstrang and Beaubatons students were here they stayed in their own dwellings and were taught by their own teacher. Therefore they did not get the full Hogwarts experience. The students chosen to come here will be sorted, will live in the dormitories, and will go to class with you. The same will go for the students who leave, with some small differences.

"How will those who go to America be chosen, you ask? That is a very good question. You may be aware that, when Hogwarts was built, the Founders also created a quill that records the birth of every magical child in Great Britain, and, when they are old enough, the quill alerts Professor McGonagall. and she sends them the Letter.

"Near the time that the last of our Founders was ready to go on to the next great adventure (we don’t know who, records back then are not like they are today), found that another school of magic had been formed in the Byzantine Empire (Byzantium was located in present-day Greece, Albania, and Turkey) and that fact put and idea into the head of our good Founder.

"1000 years ago, many noblemen in England sent their sons to foster with other knights of the realm (‘the Peerage’ was the name for the English nobility. Anyone with a title i.e.: duke, earl, princess, etc. was part of the peerage) to train them in knightly ways or how to run an estate. Using this as the base for his/her idea, the Founder enchanted a bow and three arrows to choose three students to foster in Byzantium. We will be using the same method to choose which students will go. The enchanted bow doesn’t decide totally for itself. It will also take my opinion as to who would be the most appropriate to send away into account. Well then. Any questions?" there was an excited silence as Dumbledore looked around for hands. "No? On with the show then!"

He then walked off the dais the staff table was on to a small pedestal in the far right corner of the room. No one seemed to have had noticed it before Dumbledore walked up to it. Hanging in mid-air above the pedestal, slowly but continually spinning on invisible axis’s, were the bow and arrows.

The shafts of the arrows and the stave of the bow were made of a dark, rich mahogany. The arrows were fletched and barbed in silver and the bow strung with gold. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated towards the head of Gryffindor table and close enough to hear the headmaster quietly say, "Finite incantatem". As soon as those words passed his lips, Dumbledore reached for the bow.

Wards, thought Hermione. He couldn’t get within three feet of the things without taking them down.

Bow in hand, the elderly professor strode away from the staff table and directly to the center of the Hall, right between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Abruptly everything on the house tables disappeared. Even if it wasn’t dishes or cutlery. At this, Fred and George Weasley let out loud, identical yelps of dismay (the had had an extensive battery of practical joke equipment lying on the table).

Dumbledore raised a hand for silence for the second time that night. This time he didn’t talk. He just set an arrow on the string, pointed it upwards, drew back, and released, sending the arrow high, high up to the ceiling where it hung suspended in space.

The remaining two arrows followed the first in rapid succession. The, like the first, also hung in the air, although they were not still. As soon as all three arrows had been shot, they lined up, like ducks in a row. The arrows started circling then, every once in a while twitching to the left or to the right, as if an invisible string were pulling them earthward. Suddenly, they all stopped circling, stopped twitching. Slowly, slowly, tilted downward, toward the House tables. Then, as swiftly as they had stopped, those Fate-directed arrows leapt into motion, speeding, ever downwards, and buried their tips into the smooth wood of the table. Phwwt thunk, phwwt thunk, phwwt thunk.

Right in front of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

 

 

* * * * * * *